


Hold Me in the Dark When Storms Arrive

by fiction_bunny



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anorexia, Body Image, Eating Disorders, Insecure Louis, Insecurity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-15
Updated: 2014-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-19 11:36:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1468039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiction_bunny/pseuds/fiction_bunny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What 22-year-old male popstar is that concerned about the flatness of his stomach? Not Louis Tomlinson, that’s for sure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold Me in the Dark When Storms Arrive

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! This is my first 1D fic, and I'm super excited about it! The title is from "Only You" by Ellie Goulding. Hope you all enjoy!
> 
> As a disclaimer, I haven't dealt with any eating disorders personally, but I have researched and a couple friends of mine have, so I drew on that. If anything at all seems wrong with this please let me know!
> 
> Also, this doesn't reflect my feelings on Louis or the rest of the band in any way, this was purely for fun. Thanks!

It all starts with the fans.

Louis loves his fans. He knows they talk about him and the boys all the time, and that’s great, it really is. He just wishes that they’d talk about other things than the way he looks. And it isn’t really a big deal, because they do talk about other things, but he sees posts about his body a few too many times than he’d like. They aren’t even mean posts, it’s just…

Louis has never been quite as comfortable in his skin as he’d like to be. He knows he has a pretty face, but he also knows he has a big bum and thick thighs and a pudgy stomach, and he’s always been a bit self-conscious about it, even before he tried out for X Factor. So when he goes online and sees tweets like _damn louis ass is huge lol_ or _omg I love Louis’s little tummy its so cute_ it always brings out his insecurities a little bit. Sometimes Louis stands in front of the mirror after he’s dressed and tugs at his shirt to try and cover up his round belly; he doesn’t know why he still decides to wear such tight shirts if all it does is accentuate his imperfections. But Harry always comes in then, a smile on his face as he says, “Baby, you look fine, come on, we have to go,” and then they’re out the door in front of millions of people and Louis just has to pretend to have the confidence people expect him to have. Because what 22-year-old _male_ popstar is that concerned about the flatness of his stomach? Not Louis Tomlinson, that’s for sure.

And it’s not a huge issue, at least not for a while, because it’s not thrown in his face a lot. None of the boys care about his weight, not at all, and he spends almost all of his time with them, so he doesn’t really have to think about it too much in day-to-day activities. There’s always the occasional photoshoot or wardrobe fitting that brings Louis’ insecurities to light, but they’re few and far between. And if any of the boys ever notice Louis pulling too much at his clothes to hide his body, they make up awful but touching songs about how great Louis is, how pretty he is and how much they need him to survive. Louis laughs and smiles and joins in the song as Harry presses a kiss to Louis’ temple, telling him softly that he’s beautiful.

It takes a bit for Louis to believe it, especially coming from Harry, who’s probably the most beautiful person he’s ever seen; he sometimes still can’t quite wrap his head around the fact that Harry loves him, and they’ve been together for just under three years. But Harry proves it time and again, with little glances and soft touches and not-so-quiet nights, and Louis is just starting to think that maybe Harry’s telling the truth when the article comes out.

It’s stupid, really, and Louis should definitely stop looking for news on himself and the boys online, but it hits him right where it hurts, talking about how the boys have gotten a trainer and everyone but Louis has been seen working out, and maybe Louis should hop on it because from what they’ve seen he could use a little exercise. And there’s a picture of him in one of his fucking tight shirts, and there’s his stomach, which might as well be a separate entity with how huge it is. Louis knows he’s over exaggerating even in his mind, but he can’t help it; he’s never been more embarrassed over anything the press has printed about him before, and he’s been telling himself over and over that it’s really only him who notices the size of his stomach but here’s undeniable proof that he’s wrong.

It’s not long before the tears start rolling down his face, and he throws his phone angrily into the corner of the couch. He has to muffle his sobs in a pillow, because sound travels on their tour bus, and he really doesn’t want anyone to know about the article and how upset it’s made him.

Louis hears someone call his name as he’s curled into a ball with his tears, and he’s glad the voice has an Irish lilt to it, because Niall never asks questions, content to let Louis just cry on his shoulder without having to know why he’s crying in the first place. He lets Niall pull him in, wrapping his arms around the blonde’s neck while he sobs into his shirt.

“You all right, Lou?” he asks softly when Louis leans up, wiping his eyes. He nods with a sniffle, and Niall smiles encouragingly, squeezing the older boy’s shoulder. Louis manages to smile back, and Niall takes that as an okay to get up. “Hey, d’you want some Pringles or somethin’? I’m _starving_.” Louis rolls his eyes, because Niall is always ‘starving’, but maybe some delicious, fattening snacks will make him feel better. He’s about to say yes when he freezes. It’s those fattening snacks that got him into this mess, isn’t it? He can’t get upset over people pointing out how fat he is if he’s eating stuff like that.

“Um, no thanks. I’m good.” _I’ll just cut out snacks_ , Louis thinks. Snacks aren’t really a necessary part of anyone’s diet, anyway; people just eat them for fun. Niall just shrugs.

“Suit yourself, mate.” He goes into the kitchen area and comes back with a can of Pringles, already shoving a few in his mouth. “You want to play FIFA?” he asks, and Louis nods, finally smiling properly; Niall is so drama-free.

“Only if you want to lose,” he taunts, and Niall grins, tossing him a controller.

And that seems to be that, for the most part. He is still Louis, still himself, because he definitely doesn’t want to draw attention to what he’s doing; it’s no one’s business but his own. But now Louis keeps up with his impromptu diet, adding sweets and sugary drinks to the list of thing he can’t eat. The boys look at him a little weirdly when he starts refusing to eat his favorite snacks, but no one really says anything to him about it – except Harry.

“Babe,” he says to Louis one night while they’re cuddling in bed, “are you okay?”

Louis blinks; he doesn’t really think he’s been too different lately. “Yeah, Haz, I’m good.” He _has_ been thinking that he should be cutting out some other fattening foods from his diet, because he’s still not really losing what he wants. But Louis hasn’t even put that plan into place yet, so he really has no idea what Harry’s on about.

“Are you sure? Like, you don’t want to talk about anything, or…?” Harry trails off, sounding a little worried. Louis turns around so he can see Harry’s face, raising his eyebrows in question; Harry shrugs. “Niall said you were upset a couple days ago, but we haven’t got a chance to talk since then and I just wanted to make sure you’re all right.” Louis smiles; Harry worries too much.

“I’m fine, love. I promise.” He cups Harry’s face in his hands, kissing him tenderly to assure him. Because it’s true; Louis is actually feeling better now that he put himself on this little diet than he was before. While before he’d just been insecure and wondering how he could become what he needs to be, he knows now that he just has to work a bit harder to get the kind of beauty that comes naturally to people like Harry.

“Okay.” Harry kisses Louis on the cheek before turning out the light beside their bed. “Get some rest.” Before he falls asleep, Harry tightens his arms around Louis’ waist. “You’re so beautiful, Lou,” he whispers, kissing his neck. Louis smiles again, admiring his boyfriend’s sweetness, even though he knows Harry’s lying; no, he’s not beautiful right now, but maybe he will be.

Louis does cut out some more foods from his diet; he’s been reading online, and how did he not know how fattening breakfast food was? So he stops eating it; it’s a little harder to rationalize because that’s a whole mealtime gone, not just snacks, but Louis knows plenty of really healthy people who don’t eat breakfast, so he doesn’t feel bad about it. He has to make up lots of excuses for Harry, who often cooks breakfast for the both of them, faking nausea and headaches and lethargy so he doesn’t have to eat carb-filled pancakes and bacon and eggs. But Harry never seems to suspect anything, which is absolutely great for Louis. He’s on top of the world, really; maybe sometimes he’s a little hungry, but that’s to be expected when dieting, isn’t it? So he pushes the hunger aside, telling himself that a little pain now will be worth it in the end.

The only thing is, now that he’s been made aware of how imperfect it is, he can’t help but hide his body in front of Harry. He doesn’t like it, but he keeps thinking that maybe Harry has been settling, that he doesn’t really like Louis’ body, because really, who could? As far as he knows, Harry doesn’t have a fat fetish, so there’s no reason for him to have ever liked the way Louis looks. One night when Harry’s lying over Louis on top of their bed, kissing him breathless, Louis feels Harry’s hands travelling a familiar path under his t-shirt, fingers trailing over his stomach. And suddenly all that’s on Louis’s mind is that Harry is touching him, feeling the rolls of fat covering his body and Louis doesn’t want Harry to touch him like that, not now, when he’s nowhere close to being beautiful.

Louis doesn’t even realize he’s pushed Harry off of him until the younger boy’s concerned voice floats down to him. “Louis? What’s wrong, baby?” Harry’s brow is furrowed, looking at Louis as if he’s mildly insane. Louis bites his lip, trying to think of an explanation.

“Uh, it’s – it’s nothing.” Harry’s face doesn’t change, so Louis thinks a little harder. “I just – haven’t been feeling well.” Louis sees Harry’s eyes soften slightly as he shifts completely off Louis, and decides to go a bit further. “To be honest, I kind of feel like I’m going to throw up.” And then Harry is totally on board with his lie, helping Louis up and fretting over him, and maybe Louis feels a little guilty but he’ll only keep Harry at bay for a little while, just until Louis looks okay enough to let him see. He’s hoping that that will be sooner rather than later.

Louis keeps looking for improvement in his body, ready for the pudge on his stomach to disappear, but there’s no change. He scrutinizes himself in the mirror, in the shower, whenever he’s alone, but everything’s practically the same. Maybe his ribs are a bit more pronounced but his belly’s still as fat as it was before; it might be time to take more drastic measures.

Having four sisters, Louis has heard a lot about eating disorders, enough to know that he shouldn’t _not_ eat. That’s anorexia, and Louis doesn’t have that, not one bit; anorexia is for insecure teenage girls who want to be supermodels, and maybe some of his fans are like that, but _he_ surely isn’t. So Louis just – limits himself. He drinks lots of water, eats really small portions of fruits and veggies, finds new, creative ways to refuse meals so he doesn’t overeat. He always eats a little of whatever’s on his plate, just enough to keep him healthy, to keep anyone from thinking something’s wrong (because it isn’t, Louis is just doing what he has to for his body, it’s just a little unconventional), but the rest he cuts up into bits and pushes around to make it look like he’s eaten more. He also learns that offering food is probably the best way of avoiding overeating, because the boys are almost always willing to share what he’s got. Liam does look at him oddly once when he gives most of his dinner to Niall.

“It’s just- you didn’t eat lunch, did you? Aren’t you hungry?” he asks when Louis prompts him. Louis _is_ hungry, but he ate a whole cup of grapes this morning and some crackers after their sound check. He can’t really afford to eat much more today.

“Nah, I’m fine, Liam.” To take attention off himself, he nods over to a sleeping Zayn, curled up in an armchair as they drive to their next venue. “You should be more worried about him. He’ll be grumpy _and_ hungry when he wakes up if you don’t save anything for him.” Distracting Liam with Zayn is always the best way to go; Liam drops the issue almost immediately, leaving Louis alone like he wants.

Louis keeps going with his new diet for a while, and still no one suspects anything, which is great. Plus, he’s finally getting a little thinner, not quite where he wants to be, but closer than before. Maybe all he needs for that last push is to exercise. So he starts to work out more often, sometimes with the boys, sometimes alone, so he can get the flat stomach he so desperately wants. Louis gets a little dizzy after he exercises sometimes, or even when he’s not exercising, but all he needs to do is drink some water and he can bounce right back. It is pretty frustrating though, because it’s just another reminder of how weak his body is, how much he needs to change.

Louis is doing an interview with Zayn; they’re backstage before one of their American shows, and Louis is feeling a little lightheaded. He’s not really sure why, because he hadn’t had time to work out earlier and he hasn’t eaten any less food today than he normally would (a handful of cheerios and a strawberry). But it’s happening regardless, and the interviewer just keeps going, asking questions they’ve answered at least a hundred times and Louis is just droning out responses, trying to keep the headache he feels coming on at bay. He’s talking about how fit Natalie Portman is when the edges of his vision go black, and that’s never happened before. It’s more than a little scary, and suddenly he’s seeing black everywhere and oh, wow, he’s never been this dizzy. He doesn’t even register that Zayn is calling his name until he feels hands on his shoulders.

“Louis, can you hear me? Look at me, babes,” and he opens his eyes (when did he close them), seeing a blurred, panicked Zayn kneeling at his side. His vision is going back to normal and he realizes that he’s lying on the floor where he’d previously been standing. The interviewer has been replaced by a member of security, talking on his phone about bringing a paramedic; Louis panics a little, knowing a paramedic would be able to tell how much he’d eaten today.

“I’m fine,” he says quickly, starting to get up. His head hurts a little, but otherwise he’s telling the truth. “I’m fine, we don’t need a medic, I’m okay.” Zayn is frowning at him, but Louis ignores it, motioning to a guy he doesn’t recognize, probably new. “Can you get me some water?” he asks, and the guy nods, looking slightly scared, running off to complete the task.

“Lou, what happened?” Louis is decidedly not looking at Zayn, because he has no idea what to say. He sits down on a chair security had produced out of nowhere, and Zayn hovers beside him. “You were fine one minute and the next you were on the ground.”

“Yeah, don’t know.” And it’s true; he doesn’t know why his lightheadedness had morphed into collapse. He _does_ know why he was lightheaded in the first place, but he’s not going to tell Zayn that. “It’s so weird. I guess I was just really tired.” The new guy returns with a bottle of water, and Louis thanks him, immediately taking a swig. Zayn doesn’t look like he really believes Louis, but he at least doesn’t argue, just keeping a close eye on him throughout the night. He doesn’t even tell the other boys, which Louis is eternally grateful for; Harry would have completely freaked out if he knew Louis fainted.

As is it is, Louis himself is a little freaked out, and he starts to wonder if his diet is a little too extreme. But he can’t stop now; he knows that the perfect image of himself is becoming more and more attainable each day, he just needs to keep going and it’ll work out, he knows it will. Not to mention the mere thought of eating the same amount of food he used to makes Louis feel sick, and he can’t imagine actually eating like that again. It doesn’t matter; he can worry about getting off this diet after he’s got a normal sized stomach for once in his life.

Ever since his little collapse, Zayn’s been watching him really closely. Almost every time Louis looks up, Zayn is staring at him. He thinks Zayn might be catching on a little, especially when he stops taking his food. Zayn is instead offering him things casually, always asking if he wants a bite of whatever he’s got, and it stresses Louis out to the point where he’s retreating to his dressing room alone each night, staying away from everyone until he absolutely has to see them.  And it’s not like he doesn’t love his boys, but he can’t handle the questions, the looks he gets if he refuses to take a sip of Zayn’s milkshake and he just needs to be by himself for a while without having to worry about everything.

“Hey.” Zayn is leaning in the doorway of Louis’ dressing room one night, his voice causing Louis to turn. “We’re picking something up from McDonald’s, what do you want?” He’s looking a little too knowingly at Louis, so he turns away again, trying not to hyperventilate.

“I’m not really hungry.” Louis knows he should be trying harder, especially with Zayn, but it’s late and he doesn’t feel like finagling around for a good excuse.

“Really?” Louis hears Zayn step inside, closing the door behind him. “You haven’t eaten all day, Lou.”

Louis swallows. “’Course I have, don’t be ridiculous.” He hasn’t, nothing at all; his stomach has been in knots all day for some unknown reason, and Louis didn’t want to throw up and have Zayn think he had an eating disorder, or something.

“No, you haven’t; yesterday, either. I’ve been watching you.” He chances a quick glance at the dark haired boy; Zayn’s arms are crossed, and he’s pretty much glaring Louis down. Louis looks away again, pretending to fix his clothes.

“Well, that’s a bit creepy, isn’t it?”

“Why have you been starving yourself?”

Louis is completely taken aback. Because he _hasn’t_ been starving himself, he’s still eating, just not as much. It’s just a diet, maybe an extreme diet, but a diet all the same; he’s not trying to kill himself, he just needs to _look_ _right._

“Louis, answer me-“

“I’m _not_.” Suddenly Zayn looks so pissed, and what right does he have to be pissed? Zayn would never understand what Louis is going through; Zayn, who everyone always says is the prettiest, the best-looking, the hottest. “Shut the fuck up, Zayn; you don’t know anything.”

“I know you fainted last week because you hadn’t eaten anything-“

“I was just _tired_ , I told you that-“

“That’s a load of bullshit, Lou, you know it is-“

“Look, I’m on a fucking diet, all right? I’m fine, nothing’s wrong -“

“You’re not dieting, you’re starving!” Louis has a retort on the tip of his tongue when Zayn cuts him off. “You’re _anorexic_ , Louis.”

Time seems to stop for a second. Louis opens his mouth to say something, anything, but his voice has apparently vanished, taking all his anger with it, so he closes it again. Zayn’s eyes soften slightly, and he steps forward as if to touch Louis; Louis steps back.

“No, I’m not,” Louis whispers. Because of course he’s not. He took precautions so that he wouldn’t be; Louis still _eats_ , maybe not all the time, but he does, he can’t be anorexic if he’s eating- “I’m not,” he says again, insistently, because Zayn has pity in his eyes and he doesn’t need to be pitied, he’s not doing anything wrong, he’s just on a diet and lots of people go on diets-

“Louis…” Zayn reaches for the older boy’s arm, but Louis jerks out of the way, wrapping his arms around his stomach.

“ _Don’t_.” Because how could Zayn even _say_ that he’s anorexic, he doesn’t know, he doesn’t understand anything; he doesn’t have to watch what he eats, he doesn’t have to be afraid of looking in the mirror, he doesn’t have to wonder when his boyfriend is going to open his eyes and dump his fat ass without a backward glance, he doesn’t have to wish for a day when he can look at himself and finally be satisfied, be comfortable, be _happy_.

“Lou-“

“Shut _up_!” Louis is screaming, unshed tears welling in his eyes. “Shut up, shut up, _shut up_ -“ He tangles his hands in his hair, biting on his lip so he won’t burst out sobbing.

“What’s going on?” And then Louis _is_ sobbing, because Harry’s rushing into the room, shooting Zayn a shocked, accusatory glare as he goes to Louis’ side. “What the hell did you do?” Zayn shakes his head, but Harry’s not looking at him anymore, focusing on Louis instead. Harry tries to wrap his arms around Louis but he pushes the younger boy’s hands away; he can’t believe this is happening right now. He tried so hard not to get Harry involved, wanted Harry to just turn around one day and see him with his perfect body and then they could finally be perfect together, instead of Louis just watching him be beautiful and amazing and wonderful without him. “Louis!” Harry is calling after him but Louis can’t do it, can’t listen to Harry find out that not only is Louis fat but he’s also weak and incompetent and stupid, can’t see the look on his face, the disgust in his eyes, or worse- the pity.

So he runs out of the room, past Niall and Liam who are standing confusedly at the door, past their security who are listening in from outside, past Lou and Paul and practically every member of their team until he turns a corner and opens a door, shutting himself in a supply closet.

Louis doesn’t know how long he stays in there, curled up next to a bucket on the floor as he sobs and sobs until his voice is raw, and even then he’s still sobbing. He hates himself; how could he let this happen? How is he so stupid that he can’t even go on a diet properly? Why didn’t he realize that things were getting out of hand? How could he possibly convince himself for so long that he was okay?

Because finally Louis realizes that he’s not okay, hasn’t been for a while, that he’s set himself on this path that he knows is wrong but that he can’t see another way out. Louis can’t look at himself without seeing his fat stomach, is literally unable to imagine himself any other way, and when he thinks about going back to the foods he used to eat all the time he throws up bile into the bucket by his side, still crying. He said to himself that everything would be worth it in the end, but now he doesn’t think there _will_ be an end to this, ever. And there’s nothing he can do to change it.

Louis ends up crying himself to sleep in the closet; he vaguely remembers being lifted and carried at some point, starting to stir awake, but then he heard Harry’s low, soothing voice in his ear, whispering, “Shh, shh. Go to sleep, baby,” and he was tired, so why not?

Louis wakes up in Harry’s bunk, comforted by the smell of Harry on his pillow, but very alone. He wanders out to the kitchen area, finding all of his bandmates seated at the table. They each have serious expressions on their faces, and Louis knows they were probably talking about him when they all look up, shocked at his presence. Harry is the first to recover.

“Morning, Lou,” he says cheerfully, rising from his seat to give Louis a kiss. Louis doesn’t say anything, but Harry doesn’t seem to expect him to. He leads Louis to the empty seat between him and Liam, pulling out his chair like a proper gentleman. Then he turns to the counter, getting a paper plate.

“Here,” he says after a few minutes, putting the plate in front of Louis. There’s a single pancake on it, not much bigger than Louis’ hand, but it’s one of the most intimidating things he’s ever seen. The room is silent, and if there was any doubt that the boys knew what was going on with him, it’s gone now; every eye in the room is on him and this fucking pancake, waiting to see how he’s going to react. Louis just sits there for a moment, looking at his plate, still staring as Harry starts conversation up around him again. He knows he should eat it (for God’s sake, it’s a _pancake_ , it shouldn’t be this difficult for him), but Louis isn’t sure if he can bring himself to do it; he’s still fat, he knows, and eating pancakes isn’t going to help anything. But he can’t refuse it, not now that everyone knows, that Harry knows. So after what feels like an eternity, Louis picks up his fork, cuts a piece of the pancake off, and puts it in his mouth, chewing slowly.

He can feel everyone’s eyes on him as he swallows, looking up to see Zayn’s soft look, Niall’s little smile and Liam’s encouraging nod, feeling Harry press a kiss to his temple, and Louis gets a sudden rush of emotion, almost crying because these boys care about him so much, and they’ll always be here for him, even if he’s struggling (especially if he’s struggling). He cuts off another piece.

Louis manages another four pieces before his brain gets loud with its protests, telling him that he’s so stupid, he’s already fat enough, he’s ruining everything he’s worked for, and then Louis _is_ crying, dropping his fork and mumbling, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” into his hands. He doesn’t quite know if he’s sorry for eating too much or eating too little, but he does know that he feels utterly weak, even slightly sick, and this probably wasn’t a good idea because now everyone will be so disappointed in him, almost as much as he is.

But Liam just reaches for his plate, taking it away as Harry envelopes him in his arms, whispering _it’s all right_ and _you did great_ and _it’ll be okay, Lou_ , and Louis just closes his eyes, hoping desperately that what he’s saying is true.

Louis tells Harry everything that night, lying in Harry’s bunk with his head pillowed on the younger boy’s chest. He tells Harry how he was insecure about his body from the start, how much the article hurt him, how he really just wanted to go on a diet at first but somewhere along the way it became a struggle to be as skinny as possible, to lose every single imperfection in his body and become a perfect person.

Harry listens intently through the entire story, periodically running his fingers through Louis’ hair, giving silent comfort whenever he needs it. When Louis stops talking, Harry shifts to look at his boyfriend properly.

“I know you won’t believe me right now,” Harry starts, whispering, “and that’s all right, but you’re absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful, Louis.” He brushes a thumb across Louis’ face, caressing him tenderly. “And there’s no one who’s perfect, but in my eyes, you come the closest.” Louis closes his eyes, holding back tears as Harry presses a kiss to his neck, his jaw, his forehead. “I love you more than you can imagine.” The words ghost across Louis’ skin as Harry puts his lips on every inch of his body, every so often telling him how beautiful he is, but preferring to show how much he loves him with actions rather than words. And sometime during the night, a tiny part of Louis seems to brighten, and he starts thinking that maybe Harry’s words have some sliver of truth in them. It’s not easy to swallow. It’s never going to be easy, but maybe now it’s a little less daunting of a task to let go of his problems with his beautiful boy next to him, mumbling “love you” as he drifts off to sleep, holding him tight.

Maybe Louis isn’t quite as lost as he thinks he is.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> if you liked it let me know at my [tumblr](http://fictionbunny.tumblr.com/)


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